The Fourth of July
by imparfait
Summary: Jay and Silent Bob celebrate Independence Day, Roswell style. (not really, lol.) Rated for questionable language.


The Fourth of July  
  
  
*Review Please*  
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Silent Bob awoke to the piercing shriek of his blonde friend in his ear. "It's fucking July Fourth, Lunchbox!" Jay screamed, and proceeded to hop up and down on his bed. The mattress springs squealed, threatening to poke through and impale the prone man. "What the fuck's wrong with you, Tons O' Fun? Get the fuck up and shit!"  
  
Bob made a face and pulled back the covers.   
  
"I didn't mean literally shit, fatass," Jay groaned. He was already clad in his regular threads, with Silent Bob just sitting by him in his underwear. "Get your clothes on, please."  
  
With a shrug he stood and carefully maneuvering himself around his room, over the piles of dirty laundry and snuffed out cigarettes and empty beer cans, and approached his closet. For a few moments he was unable to open the door; it was snapped shut. Seemingly forever.  
  
"What the fuck," Jay groaned and hopped over the shit on the floor. Grasping the doorknob, he yanked hard but to no avail. Biting his lip in frustration, he began to kick the door in anger, screaming at the top of his lungs.   
  
Bob pulled Jay away and let him fall onto the dirty laundry dune beside him. "If you can't open the fucking door, then no one can, Tubby," Jay mumbled, pushing away a sock disgustedly.   
  
Jay watched in shock as his friend unlocked the door and it slid open with mind-boggling ease. "Fuck this," he snapped and got up, walking out. "You better fucking be out here in two minutes or I'm leaving without you!"   
  
Shaking his head, Bob pulled on his clothes. Who cared? The Fourth of July was nothing special, just the day when our founding fathers wrote the Constitution, right? No big deal, just some paper that gave poor people money so they didn't have to get off their asses and work. Damn poor people. It sucked even more when SB realized he could be considered poor, and he didn't get any help from the system.  
  
He growled to himself and left his room. Jay was already in the hallway, nursing his midafternoon blunt, staring deeply into the mirror by the stairs. SB blinked and tapped his foot.  
  
Jay, somewhat startled, turned to him and asked, "Hey Bob, what's shakin'? Other than your fat rolls, that is." He laughed at himself; there was no joke funnier to Jay than one of his own.  
  
Ha ha, Silent Bob thought, frowning.  
  
"C'mon man, fucking laugh. It was funny, right?"  
  
Yeah, it was sidesplitting. You're always funny.  
  
"That's what I thought. So let's get the fuck out of his shit hole and party hard, motherfucker!" He took one last hit and threw the joint down in the ashtray. Bob reached for the roach and re-lit it, not about to let the inch or so of it go to waste.   
  
Jay skipped outside and promptly fell flat on his face. Bob, going his not-slow-but-just-right pace to help avoid what Jay had just done, shut the door behind him and stood above his friend. A few minutes went by silently, paused.  
  
"Fuck," Jay finally breathed and stood up. "You didn't see that, right, Giggles?"  
  
See what?   
  
"You coy bitch. I like that in a man." Jay stopped and thought a moment about what he said, but shrugged it off. He looked into Bob's eyes, heavy and still tired, and an idea came into play. "You hungry, Tub a'Lard?"  
  
SB's eyes lit up immediately. Food. Yup. He blinked at Jay with a gentle, happy smile, and touched himself on the nose.  
  
"Yeah, I figured you were pretty fucking hungry," Jay grinned. "You haven't eaten a damned thing in the last twenty minutes."   
  
I just woke up, gimme a break. Fuck you, you fucking junkie with nothing to show for life. Damn you.  
  
"Shut up, Bob," Jay breathed, pulling out a cigarette. "Well, we don't have any money for food, so how's about a little something to help tide you over?" He handed Silent Bob a cigarette from his carton.  
  
Bob looked down at the cigarette in his palm and frowned.  
  
But I'm hungry for food.  
  
"Didn't I just fucking tell you WE HAVE NO MONEY."   
  
Screams could be heard pooling in from beyond the corner, where there was obviously lots of commotion present. "Maybe it's a parade!" Jay shrieked, bounding down the street, with Bob bobbing behind him at his glacial pace. He stopped abruptly before a mass of people, all shouting and watching floats drive by. "Motherfucking sweet!"  
  
Fantastic, Bob thought, cringing at a screaming little girl by his ear. Jay? Can we leave now?  
  
"Bob, get the fuck over here and look at these fuckable bitches! Shit!" He was practically drooling, the pitiful bastard. "They've got massive titties and oh, sweet mother!"   
  
That's disgusting.   
  
"Don't look at me like that...ugh," Jay slid over to Bob and sighed. "Bitch, what the fuck is wrong with you? There are l.a.d.i.e.s. abound over the rainbow, man!"   
  
I think it's a gay parade.  
  
"What?! No! Say it ain't so, Giggles!" Jay looked up, failing to see the rainbows and men kissing and tight spandex shorts. "I don't think so, Bob, I think you're insane."  
  
Whatever. Why would you care anyway? You love men.   
  
"I DO NOT!" Jay grabbed Bob's collar and yanked him forward. "I am NOT gay, don't you fucking even THINK that, Lunchbox! Just don't even! Motherfucking lardass, Jesus Christ!"   
  
Don't bring Him into this.  
  
"Whatever, Bob," Jay breathed and pushed through the crowd, in search of a few hot chicks. For a while all he saw were a few old lesbians with femme-ullets. "Where'd all the slammin' bitches go?" he wondered aloud.  
  
Bob chuckled to himself and bought a balloon. Upon seeing a lonely little boy by himself, he thought for a moment and handed him the balloon.   
  
"Thanks, mister!" the boy exclaimed, looking the balloon over, but quickly blurted out, "I don't like red," and promptly let it go into the air. Bob frowned as the boy ran off without another word. I wonder where Jay went, he wondered, grinning at the group of hot girls in front of him.   
  
"Where the fuck did they go?" Jay grumbled loudly, shoving his way around, disgruntling many people in the process. "Damn youse! Any hot bitches out there?"  
  
No one answered, making Jay pout slightly. The parade had just ended, and people were now scrambling for the exits, now shoving him around the way he had before with them. All he could do was stand there and take it, and wishing his friend Silent Bob was out there to help him out.  
  
"You are so adorable," a woman purred into Bob's ear, stroking his hair.   
  
"I like your coat, where'd you get it?" asked another as she looked through its lining.   
  
Bob was in heaven. All these chicks were interested in him, not in Jay - not that they were ever interested in vulgar Jay - but Jay wasn't there to witness it. I wish he was here to drool and grumble in jealousy over me, he thought, pouting. I want to show him up for once!   
  
"C'mere, sonny boy," an old woman called out to Jay, making him run faster than he knew he could. "Why the fuck do old bitches always wanna fuck me?" he cried, and caught sight of his friend. He stopped short, ramming into a tall, burly man. He didn't notice the man's glare of death; only Bob's new 'friends' showed up in his eyes. His hot friends, all touching him, swooning over him.   
  
"But, but...Bob..."  
  
Bob saw Jay in the corner of his eye at the very last minute, as Jay began to walk the other way. Away. He frowned, wondering whether he should let go of the girls or go after his friend and beg for forgiveness.   
  
After several pleasuring hours with the women he headed out to find Jay.  
  
It was already late in the afternoon...he realized after the fact that he had smoked much weed and drank much beer, and had most likely passed out a few times. It did not feel like - he looked at his watch - five hours had gone by. They kept him as their love slave until they got sick of him. I'm surprised they kept me that long, he thought, trudging up the hill.  
  
He thought he say Jay for a fleeting moment, but in reality it was but a little girl with long, flowing, blonde hair. Bob sighed and continued walking up until he did indeed find Jay, sitting on a picnic table, smoking a cigarette.   
  
He saw Bob and immediately averted his eyes from him; Bob sighed and stood in front of him.   
  
"You know, Lunchbox, I'm fucking ecstatic you finally got some. Motherfucker, you probably had fucking blueballs an' shit, am I right?"  
  
No.  
  
"Whatever," he breathed, taking another long drag.   
  
Can we go home now?   
  
Jay shook his head and patted the table beside him. Bob climbed up next to him and stared out into the sky. The sun was still struggling to leave; his watch read past nine. "You know, Bob, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I treat you like shit everyday, and I'm sorry I am such a dumbass."  
  
Silent Bob swallowed. Please don't do this, he thought, shutting his eyes, the last thing I want is an apology from my friend. "There's no reason to be sorry," Bob whispered.  
  
"Fuck man, why do you talk now?" Jay asked, wiping his eyes. Probably had something in 'em. Like dirt.  
  
Bob sighed and rubbed his friend's back gently. Jay welcomed it, and even leaned slightly toward it, as the sky suddenly brightened with loud cracks of fireworks. Jay watched in an almost child-like fascination and curiosity, making Bob smile. So what if the Fourth of July wasn't the greatest? We're still friends, and that's all that matters.  
  
"Look at that shit, Tub O' Lard, ain't it fucking beautiful?" Jay sighed dreamily, scratching his ass.   
  
Beautiful, Bob thought. 


End file.
